


It's High Time for Change

by UntimelyAttack



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Becoming a better person, Difficult Relationships, Drug dealer Hanzo, Druggie McCree, Drugs, Flashbacks, I'm new to this, Other, PTSD, Rape Non-Con, Slightly Altered Timeline, Sorry Not Sorry, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, implied mcgenji, lots and lots of angst, lots and lots of drugs, not a lot of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12224424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntimelyAttack/pseuds/UntimelyAttack
Summary: Jesse fucking McCree, once a prodigy gunslinger and master thief now a lowly burnt out addict.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first piece, friendly critiques are immensely appreciated <3 I hope y'all are ready for this bloody roller coaster.

_The smell of blood was raw in the humid, dark room. Jesse was huddled in a corner, covering his ears with his hands in attempt to calm his nerves. A figure drenched in crimson slowly made its’ way towards him, it wasn’t until he looked down that he realized it was his blood. He gaped at the blooming splotch on his chest, the figure who was by the door, now right in his ear. Claws struggle to wrap around Jesse’s neck as he screams. The withered skeleton squeezes , unkempt nails digging into the soft flesh. “You were a mistake”_ He forced himself awake with a shudder. Now propped up by his smelly sleeping buddy, a cold and filthy dumpster, blinking away the last bits of slumber. Jesse let loose a string of curses as he is smashed with a feeling like none other.  
     Head throbbing and his innards threatening to force their way up, he hauled himself onto his feet. There is only one thing that can soothe this god awful pain. Jesse clutched his side where it felt like his kidney was rotting by the second. For all he knew, it was. Giving himself a once-over, he made sure his possessions were still on his person. You never know with these city folk. Surprise tickled him when he found even his serape still wrapped around him, and his trusty six shooter on his hip. The warped cowboy awkwardly limped out to the street, leaning heavily on the brick wall as he surveyed his surroundings. Seeing nothing but cold, grey streets with the occasional bland-clad civilian, street lights blinked and cars honked angrily at each other. Noises he had not noticed until his ears woke up with the rest of him, making his migraine much worse.

  
     He groaned inwardly as he slipped out from his resting place to stiffly walk down the street. The spurs on his boots jangled like an old western tune. Only a few people really gawked at him, he must have looked like shit. It was not anything to hide, he knew how washed up he had become. _Maybe it's the noisy boots_ , he mentally pat himself on the back for such a lame joke that brought a smile to his face. Not that his jokes were always lame, this time he could blame it on the thick fog that bound his mind to the shitter. _Yes, but who is the one who put himself in this situation, hmmm?_ That gruff, feminine voice in his head purred annoyingly. He was about to counter with something witty until he stumbled into his destination. A large house that had been aged to grey.  
     The house looked as if god himself meant to discard it and missed the trash can. Wood splintered around bullet holes that sprinkled the front door, only few could tell the bullets came from inside out. The windows were broken, with boards and tape to "fix" them. No sane person would step foot inside, however Jesse was not sane and he had an itch that needed to be scratched. No need for knocking as he pushed the rusty, busted door open, letting himself in. "Jose." a heavily accented voice ahead of him barked with amusement. He had almost forgotten his persona until the name had been spoken. The man's next words a tad more stern. "You're very late. I set up appointments for a reason _bakayarou_ " emphasis on the last word had Jesse stop just as he had closed the door behind him. "Now Hanzo, i've been with 'nough Japanese hookers t'know what that means" his own voice, usually decorated with a sweet southern drawl, was strangled by having not spoken since he woke up. He carefully made his way to the grouchy man. The entire room was so dimly lit he could trip over one of the many snoozing or drug induced seizing bodies by the door. Although he knew just about everyone passed out on the disgusting, vomit covered carpet, making it an easier passage. Regretfully, Jesse could call himself a regular.  
     

     Nearing his last few steps towards the man, Jesse tripped over an arm. He could have sworn he saw a needle hanging from it as he readjusted himself, giving Hanzo a goofy grin he hoped was charming. Hanzo only turned without a remark and stepped into the kitchen. Jesse followed close behind, struggling to keep his throbbing eyes open in the burning lights. In the better lighting he could see that Hanzo wasn't wearing a shirt, his muscles making his tattooed skin look ready to burst. He would have been intimidating if it weren't for the head of height difference. Taking on a casual pose against the kitchen counter, Hanzo waited patiently for the cowboy to speak. His angular face showing little other than disgust. _Those squinty and disapproving fucking eyes_. Jesse squirmed under his stare "Do I still get what I paid for?" he asked. "Not unless you plan on paying once more" Hanzo wasn't biting. That did not come as a surprise to Jesse, although the retort made him shift uncomfortably in his boots. "I don't have money" Jesse stated flatly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He couldn't quite tell, but it looked as though Hanzo squinted further, a sneer forming in place of the bland expression. " I guess you will just have to find someone dumb enough to give it to you for free" he leaned further against the counter, his elbow bumping into a cup with strange liquid in it. "Like yerself?" the words came out before he could stop them. Hanzo's brows arched and he took a few threatening steps forward, looking Jesse directly in the eye with a hand on his own gun. "I let you go twice without paying because I pity you. I will not make that mistake again, you are _not_ my stray dog." there was a click from the short man's gun. Jesse had made peace with death more times than he could count, but he did not want to die this particular day. Taking a step back, he put his hands up. "Whoa there, let's take it easy now" the threat was more of an annoyance; Jesse was the quickest draw he knew, mind his momma. Hanzo crept closer to really look at Jesse.  
     

     His lengthy brown hair matted in a few places, horrendously dark circles were starting to form around his eyes, and cuts covered the visible parts of his body. His nose looked broken but Hanzo was sure it was from whatever substance Jesse had been snorting . His once handsome face, now gaunt with abuse. Despite how well he was able to keep his muscles toned, he looked thinner. Lord only knows what deformities are hidden under his clothes. Jesse didn't much like how he was suddenly being appraised, but as their eyes connected he became hopeful. The look in his eyes must have struck a nerve, because Hanzo's stern expression softened with a sigh. Taking a hand off of his gun and reclaiming his spot against the counter, Hanzo's eyes traveled below Jesse's midsection. "Look, you have been coming here for as long as I have been dealing. I am certain the two of us can work something out." Shivers went up Jesse's spine. The very thought of doing "bedroom activities" with Hanzo made his stomach queasy. " _You're so broken there's not much else I could do but relieve the pain"_  rage began to create a lead ball in Jesse's head. "Forget it" he spat with as much venom as he could conjure, turning to leave before he could see the look on Hanzo's face.  
     

     Tripping over twice as many bodies in his hurry to get out, he heard a few grunts and groans as the burned out druggies were knocked from slumber. Jesse slammed the door behind him, only slightly conscious that Hanzo could take this as an opportunity to shoot him through the wall. He took a moment on the porch to decide where to go next, craving the numbing and flavorful cigars he carried with him. he prodded under the band inside his hat. There was a small hole in his heart when his search left him empty handed. giving a small kick to trash that had been scattered next to the stairs, he sighed "I reckon that means a trip to the smoke shop."


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much heckling does this poor man need to do?

     The sky had brightened considerably since he had left the nightmare to all homeowners. Clouds littering the sweet blue gave Jesse a sense of comfort. As much comfort he would allow himself, given that the change in weather brought out more people. Hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and cat calling any fine women that passed, Jesse made his way through the noisy streets of New York City. A small convenience store decorated in signs advertising energy drinks and cigarettes was Jesse’s target. The tinkling of bells sounded as he pushed the door open, giving the shop keep a mischievous smile. “What do you think you’re doing here, Hernandez?” The squat, pudgy little man’s brows furrowed just as soon as Jesse stepped into the store. “Royyyy, my man” Jesse drawled, stepping up to the counter. The shop was smaller inside than the outside portrayed; junk food, refrigerators full of bottled drinks, and common household necessities filled the two aisles. Paraphernalia remained locked in glass cabinets built into the counter, a T.V that had been bolted into the ceiling blasted the news channel. Jesse’s  favorite nerve neutralizers, as he liked to call them, neatly packed next to all of the inferior tobacco products just behind Roy. Jesse never understood how he could work in such a small space. Leaning on the counter with his chin resting in his hand and the other hand on his hip, Jesse continued to nettle the man. “Well aren’t you a pocket o’ sunshine” he starts quickly as the stub of a man puts up his index finger in hopes to snub the conversation. “I’m dirt poor an’ outta cigars-” his words were cut off by a loud snort. Roy is an absolute sweetheart despite his mean face and ‘fuck you’ attitude, but something told Jesse that Roy would not be cajoled today. “You’ve grown on me quite a bit, kid. But I ain’t got the money to be giving you free shit anymore.”  he combed a giant hand through his unkempt greying hair. Jesse put on a frown of his own, he hasn’t been called kid in a long time. Muttering something under his breath about Roy being as old as dirt, the T.V grabbed both their attention. _“An omnium in Russia has been reactivated. Military personnel have been sent to protect the surrounding area, the cause remains unknown.”_ The screen presented film of the omnium half hidden in billowing smoke and flames. Horrors flooded Jesse’s mind. _If there’s a second omnic crisis, who will be around to stop it?_ He felt something that could pass as glee at the thought of Hanzo’s shitty house being raided by murderous robots. Jesse took the opportunity to reach behind Roy, who is now looking dismayed at the screen, and snag a pack of cigars. Secured in his pocket, Jesse crooned to the old man “It’s a damn shame Overwatch ain't around no more, they know how to deal with these situations.” that earned him a curious stare from Roy. Jesse tipped his hat with a pleasant “be seein you” seconds before the door closed behind him, he heard a muttered _“hopefully not”_.

Continuing to traverse the crowded, bustling city, he waited until he was a block away before he sparked up one of the cigars. A long drag had his mind feeling a little less fuzzy. _Today is a good day._

 

**

    The makeshift conference room was very stuffy and smelled strongly of peanut butter. The only relief was a stream of air that drifted in through a hole in the glass wall that surrounded them. From this room they had a great view of the watchpoint Gibraltar, where the ocean slapped lazily against the cliffside. Six people and a socially awkward gorilla sat squished next to each other at a small table. A gentle blond haired and blue eyed woman sat at the head of the table looking a bit discomforted. “Thank you for having us, Winston” she put on a warm smile, eyeing each participant protectively. Winston sat looking a bit sheepish “Excuse the mess, I didn’t get much time to clean with all that has been going on.” A bullet punctured computer  sparked as if to emphasize Winston’s statement. There was a side conversation rumbling between a greying giant who shook the table with just a laugh and a red faced dwarf that could barely see over the table from his seat. “You? Creating a finer machine than my turret? That’d be the day pigs fly!” the short man huffed, unaware that everyone’s attention was now drawn to the two of them. “Ahaha- uhh.. Excuse me!” the giant’s hands folded over his lap politely upon reading the room. There was a small, sweet laugh that came from a chinese woman, the cyborg ninja next to her only tilted his head. Seated next to him, a bubbly british lady chirped “so on with the meeting then?” “Yes, right” Winston adjusted his glasses “Since the doomfist was stolen, we have very few leads on Talon”. Everyone’s expression fell, the cyborg’s shoulders sagged a little.“We cannot take them on with just the seven of us” the gorilla continued carefully. “I heard recently there may be another omnic crisis as well” the chinese woman chimed in, fidgeting with the hem of her coat. “Yes.. Because of this I believe we need more people on our team. Angela?” Winston turns to the blond woman who now has a data pad in hand, thumbing through information. “I have found two famous faces that would surely make the cut!” she exclaimed with a wide smile, turning the data pad over so everyone could see. A profile that Athena had pulled from a databank was splayed on the screen. Big bold letters read “ _LÚCIO CORREIA DOS SANTOS: AGE 26, OCCUPATION: DJ, FREEDOM FIGHTER”_ after everyone got a good look she tapped on the next one. “ _HANA SONG: AGE 19, OCCUPATION: COMPETITIVE STARCRAFT PLAYER (FORMERLY), MECH PILOT, ACTRESS”._ The table remained quiet until the giant spoke. “They're a bit young, don't you think?” he stroked his facial hair subconsciously. Winston pinched his glasses between his enormous digits and fidgeted with them. Instead of acknowledging their age, the half man started raving about having  actors on the team. “Maybe they just act like they know how to use weapons!” he struggled to make his face seen as his voice was heard. “Torbjorn, please settle down. I want to hear everyone's opinion.” Angela gave him a reassuring smile before she turned to the rest of the team. “We could use more support. We have only you, Ms. Ziegler” the Chinese woman peeped, her face becoming flush with every word. She added quickly “n-not that you're not good enough, you're amazing- it's just good to have help” Angela only waved a hand dismissively and smiled. “It is okay to call me Angela, Mei. And it's alright I understand” Mei relaxed a bit, her face as red as an apple. The crazy haired brit only vibrated in her seat, waiting patiently to add that she would love to see how Hana pilots her mech. “Lena, I can tell you now if we recruit these two, you've got to go easy on them” Winston chuckled, an odd sound to hear from a giant ape. “Genji? You've been quiet so far, do you have anything to add?” the cyborg ninja shifted in his seat. “You will not like what I have to suggest, but I think his skills and experience would benefit our cause greatly” the room went silent. For what felt like an eternity, only seagulls could be heard bickering out above the ocean. “You don’t mean…?” Reinhardt nearly whispered. “Absolutely not. That man is a stain on this earth” there was righteous fury in Angela’s eyes as she set her data pad down with a thump. “Do you know the very last thing McCree said to me?” Genji folded his arms defensively, waiting for the seething medic to finish. “‘‘ _Fuck Overwatch.”_ That man was an absolute mess when he left us, there isn't a reason to bring him back in.” she tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear as she tried to regain her composure. Genji set his hands on the table, crossing his legs as he spoke. “I know not everyone here feels strongly for him, or blackwatch for that matter" he added quickly. "But he was my best friend once. I know there is a good man buried in there, and he can help us make the world a safer place.” he looked around for confirmation, his voice pleading. Lena’s face was scrunched in thought, Mei looked frightened by how angry Angela had gotten, Reinhardt and Torbjorn were speaking to each other in hushed tones, and Winston appeared uncomfortable as per usual. Only Angela spoke for the rest of them. “He's your pet project. Don't bring him to me if he gets hurt and certainly _do_ _not_ let him near me. I will hold you responsible for any of his mishaps. Am I clear?” even though he had a visor, Angela could almost see Genji smile with his reply. “Crystal.”

 

**

 

     “Come on Reese, i’m dying here” Jesse had his hands in his pockets and his hat pulled down, leaning against a brick wall. The moon was full, casting odd shadows on the two of them. Shouting could be heard from what Jesse assumed were homeless people, which he avoided at all costs. He had heard plenty of stories where people are left with shoe prints on their faces. The man opposite to him was lighting a cigarette and looking at him skeptically. After the visit with Roy, Jesse wandered around the city looking for quick jobs. Which included playing loan shark and robbing another burnt out asshole’s house for a ‘friend’. Now Jesse had just enough money to buy him what he yearned for, but his buddy was giving him shit. “Since when do you have money?” the man was tall and lanky, the moonlight making his pale face glow to the point of looking skeletal. “Since I been runnin ‘round doin stupid shit for people” Jesse spat, adjusting his hat on his head. Underneath the bridge was noisy with late night traffic, making it hard for them to hear each other. “Y’know i’m just messin’ with you, right?” Reese had a sly smile as he stalked forward, holding out his fist. Quick as he could, Jesse pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to him. Reese slapped the baggie into his hand like a high five, the transaction ended with a fist bump as Jesse closed his fist around the substance. “Smooth like honey” Jesse tipped his hat and pushed himself off of the wall. Reese put on a toothy grin and shoved the money in his hoodie pocket. “See ya”

Jesse’s home was a rusted, solitary trailer surrounded by trees. ‘Piece o’ shit on wheels’ is what he called it, but it was still as comfy as he could make it. He made his way up the metal steps and glanced over his shoulder habitually before he stepped inside. “Fuckn’ piece of shit door” Jesse grunted as the only way to close the door was to slam it shut. Once inside he immediately kicked his boots off and flopped onto his mattress. Jesse slapped around the nightstand in search of the on switch to the lamp. Flicking it on, the lamp illuminated the room. The trailer had two rooms: the main room decorated with a mattress he fought a couple of scavengers for, a table with a chair, a nightstand next to his mattress, and a cooler in one corner. There was a room closed off by a door that served as the bathroom. However spending all of his money on drugs he wasn’t able to buy toilet paper, so he only used the shower and sink. _“Pissin’ outside is what mother nature intended men to do”_ is what his pa always told him.

Jesse reached into his pocket and pulled the baggie out to inspect it. The reddish orange powder was tucked neatly in the plastic.  Jesse’s hands were already shaking with memories of his last high. He sat up and his hat fell off of his head as he brought the baggie to the table. Plopping into the metal folding chair, he carefully sprinkled some of the bag’s contents onto the table. _Overwatch.. How many people are going to die now that your organization is illegal?_ Jesse grabbed a card that was placed on top of a lock-box on the table and started scraping the powder into a precise line. _Those goody good for nothing fucks wouldn’t get back together without Morrison._ He bent over and pressed his finger against one nostril, breathing in the fiery powder through his nose roughly. Jesse let out a loud sigh and tossed his head back, the rust dusting his sparse mustache. Even if Overwatch got back together, anything they do will be illegal, and their numbers would be too few to do anything about the terrorist group. This made Jesse’s insides tingle with delight, or was it the drugs? Either way he was absolutely content with his life as it was now. Nothing could take him from it. Not Overwatch, not Talon, not the damn government breathing down his neck in every state. Jesse sealed the baggie containing the left over substance and tucked it in the lock-box as he stood. He staggered to his bed and flopped down face first. Tonight the only thing he cared for was how long his high would last him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys and gals so much for reading. <3 Gotta give props to my lovely editor/boyfriend for all of his help, couldn't do this without him.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With one good day, comes a buttload of bad ones.

Jesse woke up half naked and in just as much pain as the day before. Only instead of nightmares he recalled a pleasant dream about a Santa Fe girl. Not wanting to let go of the lewd images, he grumbled while he pulled himself out of bed. Shuffling to the table he flipped the lock-box open to double check he wasn’t dreaming about being high. Pushing aside his extra spurs and paraphernalia, he finds what he’s looking for. The bag of rust colored powder sat right on top of a photo of Jesse’s 18th birthday.  _ How ironic  _  he picked up the photo, feeling something, he wasn’t quite sure what. In the photo he was surrounded by his blackwatch comrades, Genji had his arm around him, and Reyes sat next to the both of them with his arms crossed. _ That grumpy sonofa bitch never smiled  _ Jesse found himself smiling at the photo until he noticed something odd in the background. A figure in blue, he could just barely see him. Morrison was there too?  Now Jesse knew what he was feeling. He shoved the photo carelessly back in the lock-box and rubbed harshly at his eyes. Dragging his feet, he grabbed some clothes off of the floor giving each article a sniff to ensure they were clean. After finding a pair of clean pants, boxers, and a shirt that had not been totally spent; he shambled into the bathroom.  He threw his clothes next to the shower, leaning on the sink he twisted the knob for hot water. Jesse splashed his rugged face and looked into the broken mirror. A figure grinned back at him with sharp teeth, causing him to take a step back. The figure disappeared just as quick, leaving him to look at his own skin covered in deep red patches. He looked down and felt his skin, prodding at the splotches. They were real, and rough like callouses. With a shaky sigh Jesse turned off the sink and turned to the shower, slapping the water on and wriggling out of his pants.  _ No time to play doctor, I need more.. Maybe I can exchange the rust for something stronger.  _ For now he’ll settle with a hot shower and a rummage through his cooler for something edible.

 

Jesse had found a half eaten breakfast sandwich which left his already shrunken stomach semi-satisfied. With his serape snuggly wrapped around him and his holster comfortably tight on his hip, he pulled his hat down on his head. Jesse went to the one place he knew to go when he had nothing else to do. Now the ramshackle bar didn’t allow drugs, but Jesse always brought what he had in case his “friends” showed up looking to exchange. He kicked in the door to the bar and shouted “HeYYYO”  the few men in the bar jumped, except the bartender who looked rather peeved. The Santa Maria was only popular to old men and men that were looking to piss their life away, or both. Any women that came in were chased out with shitty pickup lines or fights between a couple of geezers. Jesse was miffed to see that none of his  buddies were there. He sauntered in regardless and plopped himself onto a creaky bar stool, the T.V hanging from the ceiling spouting infomercials. Afternoon light filtered in through the single window next to the door, warming the side of Jesse’s face. “I’ll have the usual” Jesse hummed as he adjusted himself on the seat.  “Bullshit.” the bartender barked, his thick Brooklyn accent more apparent with his next words. “ It’s watuh or yuh gotta get outta here ” the young dark haired man busied himself by polishing a beer mug, looking at Jesse with disdain. Jesse only folded his hands and leaned on the smooth wood bar, shooting the man a toothy grin. “I’ll have a water then” he pointed with his chin at the mostly empty jug of water. “ Yuh have tuh pay fawh dis too, y’know ” the bartender gave him a glare and grabbed the jug, pouring Jesse a glass. Jesse only chuckled and searched for the bowl of shitty bar peanuts. “Got any jobs for me, Raymond?” finding a bowl just inches out of reach. Jesse leaned far enough to nearly fall out of his seat and grabbed a handful. While he readjusted himself, Raymond pushed the bowl further out of reach and rested his elbows on the bar. “ Nuttin' but milk runs, yuh old fart  ” he was smiling now. “I ain’t old, just not as young as I used t’ be” Jesse said indignant, shoving the handful of peanuts in his mouth. “B’sides, a job’s a job” he said around a mouthful, earning him a disgusted look. Raymond shook his head and pushed a cutout from a newspaper Jesse’s way, then went to tend to the empty jug. 

Jesse sat with his water, sifting through the list for what felt like hours. Men seated at tables slowly scooted to the bar. The T.V  was no longer playing infomercials, instead there was breaking news about a terrorist attack.  _ That must be Talon  _ Jesse stole a glance at the T.V, there wasn’t an image this time but a woman speaking loudly and with her hands. The bold letters at the bottom read: “TALON STRIKES AGAIN, DIRECT HIT ON U.S ARSENAL”. He hated that he was right. Business is going to be great for Jesse, the infamous deadlock smuggler.  _ Maybe now my great country will call for my aid _ , he thought bitterly. It would be odd to smile while everyone is sober with bad news, but he couldn’t help it when he thought of a government official begging him to get their precious weapons back. Chugging the last of his water, Jesse slammed the glass down and stiffly stood. “Gotta take a piss.” nobody cared, but he felt the need to say it out loud. 

 

The bathroom was dingy and humid, only two out of four urinals were working and the sinks were filthy with grime. There was a single window that was slightly open, for air he assumed. Jesse zipped up his pants and went to wash his hands. Just before he got to drying them off on his pants, he caught a flash of green in the mirror in front of him. The hairs on the back of his neck began to rise as he put a hand on his gun. “What kinda creep likes watchin’ a man piss” He spun on his heels to face whoever or  _ whatever  _ it was in the bathroom with him. Jesse came face to face with a steel plate, a blinding green strip in the visor splashed everything it touched in the vibrant color. “What the-” Jesse had his gun out now, the only thing keeping him from shooting was the tip of a blade pressed firmly to his stomach.  “It’s nice to see you too, old friend” the voice was slightly robotic and familiar. “No.. You can’t be..?” Jesse was squinting until the figure stepped back. “Who the fuck are you?” he spat, his eyes adjusting to look the cyborg up and down. Just like his voice, there was something familiar about the way his cybernetics looked. Genji twirled his blade and sheathed it behind him, tilting his head a little. Jesse wasn’t so quick to holster his gun, thumbing the hammer back he steadies his aim. “You and I both know from experience who would win this” his voice portrayed the amusement his visor could not. Jesse’s gun hand shook as he slowly uncocked his gun and shoved it back into its’ holster. He struggled to keep his voice strong. “Genji.. Is that you?” his hands were shaking badly now and his eyes widened with disbelief. Genji only leaned back and open his arms wide, gesturing to his body. “Angie gave me an upgrade.”   

 

It took the two of them a long hug to settle themselves and Jesse’s nerves. “It’s been so long.. You look great” Jesse still couldn’t believe he was talking to his best friend. After the initial shock came a wave of guilt.  _ He still treats me so kindly.. Even after what I have done.  _ “Wish I could say the same for you, Jesse” the ninja folded his arms over his chest. “Jose Hernandez” Jesse corrected him with a feigned spanish accent, pulling his hat off to procure a cigar from the band. “How many aliases do you have?” Genji laughed, leaning against one of the two stalls. “One for each state, compadre” patting the hat back down on his head, Jesse prodded his pockets for his zippo without accidentally pulling out the bag of dangerous powder. “How have you been? Why New York?“ Genji prodded at his friend, shifting on his feet. Instead of answering, Jesse asks “How did you find me, anyway?” looking up after he lit his cigar. Genji took some time to respond, with that time Jesse looked his pal over. The last time he and Genji were in a bathroom together it was intimate and confusing. That brought blood to Jesse’s cheeks and he looked away.  _ I was just a confused kid back then  _ he shook the thoughts from his mind. “Your friend at the convenience store likes to rat you out. He also told me to tell you that he knows you stole those” Genji gestured towards his cigar with a chuckle. Jesse cursed as he blew smoke out of his nose. “Guess I won’t be seein’ him again. I wonder what else he tells people” he took his hat off long enough to run a hand through his messy hair before shoving it back on. Genji moved to sit on the sink next to Jesse, turning to face him. “You look like shit, Jesse. Really, how have you been?” he tilted his head. Jesse was becoming annoyed now, embers burning an inch off of his cigar as he inhaled deeply. “Just a head cold, hombre”  Genji wasn’t having it. Just like his brother, Genji stubbornly tilted his chin up “ _ Masaka, o toko.  _ I’ve seen many people that look the way you do. You’re hooked, aren’t you?”   _ What is with these two?? Can’t they let a dying man die alone? _ “What’s it to you?” Jesse snapped, ashing his cigar in the sink behind him. He had smoked the damn thing down to a stub. “I have come here to help you, Jesse.” Genji reached out to put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. He didn’t move, but the touch wasn’t welcome. “Winston brought Overwatch back together-” Jesse stood and moved away from him, putting out the rest of his cigar with the wall, it only added to the scrapes and dirt smudged all over. “Who the fuck is Winston and why should I believe you? Did you come here to throw me an intervention?!” he turned back to Genji, the annoyance seeping into his voice. “Could that be any more obvious? I didn’t acquire this on my own” Genji gestured again to his body “and Winston is a talking gorilla” he added hesitantly. Now Jesse was mad.  _ Talking animals huh, just how stupid do ya think I am, asshole?  _ Before he could say anything Genji put his hand up and pushed himself off of the sink. “You don’t have to believe me, but I want you to know there are people dying as we speak. You can sit here and rot or make a difference in both your life and theirs.” He sounded just like Reyes. That was the breaking point for Jesse, he didn’t need this.  _ This  _ was exactly what he had left behind all those years ago. “It was nice seeing you, Genji.” Jesse said flatly “it’s about time you got outta here”. Genji didn’t need the exact words to know he had overstepped some boundary. “It was nice seeing you too,  _ Jose _ .” He started backing up towards the window. “Just promise me one thing” he stopped with his hand on the windowsill. Jesse only grunted with his back turned to him. “Promise me that you’ll think about it?”  without a sound, Genji was gone. 

 

Jesse put all of his anger into the bathroom door, now he had everyone’s attention. “ Yuh’ve been smokin' in my bathroom again haven’t yuh? How many fuckin' times do I gotta kick yuh out fawh dis ? ” but jesse was on his way out already. Grabbing the list off of the bar, he pulled his hat down further. He could hear Raymond yelling at him on his way out. “JOSE YOU SCUMBAG, YOU DIDN’T PAY” there were more choice words reserved for Jesse, but they were now muffled with the distance he put between himself and the bar.  _ If Overwatch really is back together, what does that mean for you?  _ Jesse slammed his hands in his pocket, fiddling with the lighter and bag of rust.  _ Naww. Genji is the only one of those chuckle fucks that would even think to have you around.  _ He remembered how poorly he treated Angela before he left them. His anger turned to sorrow for all of the people he had lost over the years.  _ Pa.. Reyes.. All of the people I let die out of my own recklessness.. If you can hear me in heaven or hell, for some of you, I am so fuckin’ sorry. _ On the way home he found it hard to choke back tears, walking as fast as he could without running.  _ Fuck this fuckn shit, cowboys don’t cry. What the fuck are you thinkin’ you piece of shit. You should just overdose and get it over with, Genji only wants you around to show everyone just how bad you can be.  _ Jesse started running then, trying desperately to escape his thoughts. It wasn’t long before he made it home.  _ Rust.. Rust.. Rust  _ he droned as he stumbled up the steps and slammed the door behind him. Without a pause he yanked the bag out of his pocket and unraveled it, sending his lighter flying. He sat down on his bed and put the bag to his nose inhaling the quarter sized amount he had reserved to barter.  _ You’re just a broken man, Jesse McCree, a useless broken tool.  _ He laid back, the bag slipping through his fingers and fluttering to the floor. The drug instantly went to work; his brain burst with electricity and his whole body tingled like fire ran through his veins. Just for tonight, like  _ every night _ he scolded, would he let go. He closed his eyes for what he hopes is the last time. 

  
The night produced a cool breeze that was a welcome comfort, the summer weather slowly withering into fall. Although the air was pleasant, something felt terribly wrong. Everything was still; the homeless folks were not shouting, stray dogs and cats did not howl or screech. Not even the bugs chirped. Everything was quiet for the slender figure peering through a scope at a specific trailer from their shadowy viewpoint. “I have you in my sights,  _ Jesse McCree _ ”.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning! This chapter has some graphic scenes, if you're squeamish this may not be for you!

_Jesse found himself in the corner yet again, only this time he heard crying. Jesse looked up to see the figure that usually haunts his dreams bent over a body. Blood pooling around the two of them, Jesse could only see a shock of grey hair and a worn, calloused hand lying limp from behind the figure.  “Jesse, why…Why would you do this?!” it was a shrill and hideous voice. His heart began racing faster as he slowly looked down. There was a gun in his hand and the blood that resides on his chest was not his own. There were initials carved roughly into the hilt of the gun that read “W.M”._ No, fuck, no please wake up _Jesse pleaded to himself, the sobs of the figure slowly getting louder and louder. He began to feel something making its’ way up his throat, blocking off his airway and filling his nose with a coppery scent._

      He woke up desperately gasping for air, only to start coughing and choking like someone poured water down his throat while he was sleeping. Jesse rolled out of bed and wobbled frantically to the bathroom, hacking up globs of blood into the sink. _Am I dying??_ Roughly yanking his shirt off he looked at the horror that was his body in the mirror. The red patches had spread and grew into orange pearlescent scales that peppered his torso and grew likes vines up his neck. Bruises he had before had mutated into disgusting purple shapes, blood that was just beneath the skin blossomed in the center. Jesse felt if someone were to punch him in the chest, he would splatter like a tomato. “Ah fuck” his voice was garbled by more blood trying to escape his body. _I don’t want to die like this, I should have stayed on morphine._ Throwing his shirt back on and leaning heavily on the sink he took a moment to catch his bearings. _Think you jackass. Raymond is closer than Roy, but Raymond is less likely to help you after that stunt you pulled._ Something in Jesse's body convulsed and he sputtered crimson onto the mirror, his legs threatening to give out on him. “Fuck!” he cursed again. Reese wasn’t his first choice, however Jesse was becoming desperate. The bridge where Reese spent most of his time was a hop and a skip away, or in Jesse’s case a cough and a flop. Jesse flung his door open and tumbled down the steps, landing on his hands and knees. “Fuggn legs like jello” he slurred and forced himself on his feet, struggling to put one foot in front of the other in the direction of the bridge. Homeless folks that busied the alley hastily made room for Jesse like he had the plague. That would have been the time Jesse would tip his hat and give them his award winning smile, if he hadn't left his hat at home.

      After what felt like years, he had finally made it to the bridge, only instead of relief he felt something was wrong. He couldn’t see anybody from where he was, but a nagging feeling told him to look behind the pillar. Taking a ragged deep breath, he limped closer. Jesse’s already burning stomach twisted in horror when he discovered Reese’s corpse with a single, clean bullet hole in his temple. Blood had poured from his head and was already drying at the edges. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Jesse’s seen this kind of handiwork before. _Either you pissed off Uncle Sam or somebody figured me out._ Jesse crouched next to the body. “Sorry Reese” Jesse huffed, searching his friend’s pockets, trying hard not to get his own blood mixed in with the crime scene. Roy and Raymond are probably dead too. Thinking about it now, it was almost funny how his only friends all had names beginning with R. _Reyes…_ Not now, brain. Jesse shoved aside the overwhelming thoughts as he pulled cash from Reese’s hoodie pocket, shakily standing and stuffing the money into his own pocket. Just more death held over his head. He could hear a woman cackle at that; _yer diggin yerself a deep grave, child. I told ya i’d be there ta greet you in hell._  Jesse wobbled and bent to close Reese’s eyes, he was cut off by the thundering crackle of a rifle shot. Blood splattered onto the ground as he doubled over, feeling a familiar white hot pain just inches from his heart. It all happened so fast, Jesse barely had time to properly react. He tugged Peacekeeper from its’ holster and did an infamous roll behind a jersey barrier for cover. Jesse’s heart was sporadically pumping the blood he did not have to spare. His mind was swimming and his sight was becoming blurry, everything inside and out felt like it was melting. _I can’t fight like this_ Jesse dug his fingers into the hilt of his gun, the familiar grooves and notches filling him with a sort of calm. If he used his Deadeye he would be able to find his attacker, but the strain of using it would likely kill him. He surveyed the landscape for a possible escape route instead, he could probably get one more roll in before he would tire completely. _Or you could just give up and hold still.. That sniper can end all of your pain. No more nightmares, no more hallucinations, your past would no longer torment you._ The idea was inviting, a possibility that would leave him in a blissful state of no longer existing. That is until, Jesse thought, if there is a hell his mother was just waiting to tell him ‘I told you so’.

     He saw an opening then, between two buildings and out of range of the patient sniper. Only it was several feet from Jesse’s hiding spot. _Better to die tryin’ than to willingly give myself to that ol’ crone._ He readied himself for the leap, every slight movement made his entire body ache. All of his muscles tensed ready to roll, until he saw a blinking blue light land in front of him. The  gadget resembled a web that pulsated and then burst into a cloud of toxic blueish purple gas. Jesse immediately covered his nose and mouth with his arm, but he wasn’t fast enough to prevent inhaling a small amount. The gas prickled and stung like cacti needles in his throat and eyes, making even a tiny breath nearly impossible. The gas had caused a reaction with his current state, creating little spots of light in his sight and he could feel his body begin to go rigid. _So this is how you die, you worthless sap. Suffocating and seizing._ He chided himself as he slumped against the barrier, taking quick and stuttered breaths. Jesse could faintly hear the clicking of heels against concrete coming from behind him. _I was taken down by a girl?! Momma’s gon’ be rolling._ There was a sudden rush of air and an arm around Jesse’s waist as he was scooped out of his cover and thrown in between the two buildings, landing hard on his face and gripping his gun tight. He groaned as a rough hand helped him sit up, then two arms were under his own, pulling Jesse onto his feet. “We must move, now.” It was Genji’s voice he heard and trusted. Obeying, Jesse leaned heavily on the smaller frame, trying his damndest to move as quick as his friend. They flung themselves around the corner as another bullet whizzed past their heads. “Where are you taking me?” Jesse rasped, tripping over his own feet. The cyborg shifted his arm around Jesse to keep him from falling “we have to get out of New York.” Jesse ripped himself away from Genji, looking at him incredulously. “Yer tryna take me back to overwatch!” Jesse slurred bitterly. “Jesse, please. It’s not safe here” Genji tried to reclaim his hold on the mangled cowboy, only to have Jesse swat at his hands. “I’d rather die in this fuggn dirt!!” his voice was hoarse when he tried to shout. Genji’s voice was impatient as he slammed Jesse into the wall, blood starting to dribble from the man’s mouth.  “We do not have time for this. You either come with me, or I carry you against your will.” Jesse spit blood onto the cyborg’s visor in response. “Very well” Genji drew his fist back and there was a sharp pain in Jesse’s jaw as the world went black.

     Jesse shifted in and out of consciousness between hearing jet engines to the gentle and reassuring murmurs of his best friend. There was an oxygen mask placed on his face as the roar of engines became louder. His eyes were open long enough to catch a glimpse of Genji with his visor in hand, then darkness had taken over him once more. The next time Jesse barely woke when he heard a furious woman yelling in a language he could not recognize at the time. From what he could see the room was stark white and blinding. He didn’t get the chance to look around as much as he had wanted to before the light started to burn his eyes like the sun. Behind his eyelids there was a faint yellow glow, then an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort that lulled him back to sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to get pretty angsty.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re uploading this chapter because I jumped the gun, I had a few more things to add.
> 
> Thank you lovelies for being patient with me!! 
> 
> Enjoy~

   

“Hol ihn hier raus!! Why would you bring this filthy animal into my infirmary after I specifically told you not to?!” Angela nearly tore Genji apart as soon as he dragged his passed out friend into her infirmary. “Angela please, he’s going to die” Genji begged as he held Jesse’s limp form. He could see the battle rolling in her mind as she bit her lip out of frustration. Afraid Angela would take back every piece of machinery she had blessed him with, Genji tried kind words and puppy dog eyes without his visor. “You’re the greatest doctor to have existed, if anyone can bring back a man from this  _ dying  _ pile of garbage, it’d be you. Please, Angie? She glared daggers at him for using her nickname, but her rigid stance became slack, looking Jesse over with a tired eye. “As soon as he’s not in critical condition, I will leave you to take care of him.” Like a little kid that persuaded his parents to let him keep a stray, Genji nearly skipped as he pulled his companion to a cot. Angela moved past him and began preparing an IV drip, leaving Genji to take a seat and watch Jesse’s hollow face contort and relax with each of his ragged breaths.  _ You’re safe now, Jesse. _ He wanted very badly to reach out and touch the cowboy’s face, a sad feeling invading his brain like a poison cloud. No matter how hard it was to forgive, it’ll never be as difficult as forgetting. 

Between arguing with the fierce doctor and checking in on the unconscious cowboy, Genji convinced Winston to let him fly back to New York, knowing Jesse would have an aneurysm without his hat.  _ If he didn't have one already  _ Genji laughed darkly. As soon as he arrived, the day had already faded into night, a cool breeze reminded him of a comfortable night with his master.  _ The beautiful temple was cold by flesh standards, however Genji and his master payed no mind as they conversed. “I have no space left in me for forgiveness, master. This thing my brother turned me into-” digging his fingertips into his cybernetic leg, he chokes on his next words. “I can't even hold a stable relationship. Everyone I get close to leaves me.”  As always, Zenyatta held the most serene posture, as he gently grabbed his pupils’ hand. “Everyone deserves a second chance, my student. Your brother has given you a gift-” Genji snorts and wrenches his hand away “a gift I did not ask for.”  Zenyatta folded his hands in his lap patiently, continuing with grace. “Hanzo brought you to Overwatch, and in turn they gave you to me. I want to give you the opportunity to flourish and become a better you. Do you not believe that the people who have wronged you deserve the same?” the distraught cyborg wriggled restlessly, running a hand through his inky hair. “Hanzo tried to kill me, and my closest friend left me behind, why do they deserve better? Why do they deserve my forgiveness?”  Zenyatta's voice held a smile as he spoke “The same reason your new body deserves to prove a greater ally than a fatal flaw. There is good in everyone's heart, it may be you that must show them, for they cannot see themselves.” _

    The words rang in his ears every time he felt an inkling of ire towards his brother, all of his hard work will not go to waste. Although it wasn't exactly necessary to stop by his brother's residence every chance Genji got, to sway him was a challenge he would not back down from. Stealthily he made his way through the city, staying as hidden as an illuminated ninja could along the rooftops and alleyways. Genji never thought it possible to hate a building as much as he hated his brother’s house, the pale wood flagging him down on the dark lit street like a sickly beacon. Approaching the building with caution, Genji climbed the cracked stone steps, giving the door three sharp knocks. Not hearing any movement, he decided to welcome himself inside. There was an awful smell, unlike the last time he had visited, it smelled of vomit. “I see you have been busy, brother” Genji called to a figure in the kitchen, carefully skirting around bodies littering the floor. “No busier than usual” Hanzo said curtly, hunched over two cups and a glass container filled with reddish brown liquid. “Why are you here” Annoyed, the stocky man carelessly poured a small amount of dark liquid from one cup into the container. Genji leaned on the counter, watching with little interest as his brother crafted  poison. “I came to see if you would change your mind” the ninja peered at his brother curiously. “ I am shocked you did not talk my ear off before trying to recruit me”  Hanzo put the cup down rather quickly and scowled at the cyborg. “I have told you many times, I am not going back with you.” Genji crossed his arms defensively “Why not? You are wasting your skills making people sick-” Hanzo stepped closer and gripped Genji’s shoulder tight, indirectly glaring at the visor. “My skills include killing people, what does it matter the rate at which they die?” he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and took a step back to light it, leaning against the counter beside Genji. “This” he gestures to the liquids “makes people happy to forget their lives, what I do is profitable. I have enough money to buy me all of the fucking castles in Japan if I wanted them” he puffed on his cigarette arrogantly. Genji stood from his spot on the counter “Then why do you not? Why are you living in this shit hole?” A small smile on Hanzo’s face was gone as quickly as it appeared. “I am perfectly content where I am, and there is nothing you can do to take me from this.” Hanzo’s words were final, any hope that Genji had to pull his brother from this environment was crushed yet again.  _ At least he didn’t call me a walking glow stick this time  _ . “It was nice chatting with you, brother” Genji turned to leave, Hanzo yelling in Japanese at his back “Stop calling me your brother, you mechanical pile of shit!”  _ Ah, there it is. _

    Widowmaker was no longer there, but Genji had been quick getting into the trailer. The interior of Jesse’s  home was worse than the outside; it appeared as though someone had trashed the place. The bland table lay on its’ side, a small metal box was left open with the contents scattered around it, a lamp that was on the nightstand, now lay in pieces, sharp ceramic covered the floor. A cooler had been knocked over and water soaked the carpet, even the mattress was ripped apart.  _ Talon must have swarmed the place after we left  _ Genji whistled at the mess. He knew that Jesse’s hat was what he came for, but the box gnawed at Genji’s mind. The ninja grabbed the lockbox off of the floor and scooped up whatever fell out as he sat down on the mattress, weary of a few peculiar stains that had remained intact. He sifted through the box, carefully plucking out the tin foil and syringe that gave him a somber feeling. Just beneath them there were spurs and a colorful glass pipe that Genji would have found pretty if it wasn’t burnt to shit and smelled just as bad. A photo crammed between two spurs caught his attention. Delicately he pulled the wrinkled photo from the box and examined it. “No way” Genji caught himself speaking out loud, the picture was a familiar one. “Jesse’s 18th birthday.. I thought he would have thrown this away by now” he was smiling so hard it hurt his face. He remembered throwing his arm around Jesse while they sang to him.  _ His face was as red as his cowboy scarf  _ Genji thumbed the picture fondly, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. A loud thud outside the trailer startled Genji out of his reverie, he set the box and photo aside to peek out of the single window.

    Two scrappy men clad in what looked like potato sacks were bickering in harsh whispers. The man who may seemingly fell while trying to look through the window, rubbed his side as he got back onto his feet. “ I saw a bunch o’ them fancy guys wreck this place last night. I don’t think he’s gonna be in there” scratching at a sore on his nose, the man takes a step back. His company spit snot next to the other’s foot, earning him a snarl. “I dunno Jim, but I swear ta you I saw somebody go in there” the second man pulls up his pants for the third time. Jim scratches the back of his head consciously, lost in thought until he speaks again. “Guess we should just break in, there’s two of us and one o’ them” the other man didn’t look very pleased by this idea, but did not speak against it. Very cautiously Jim took the lead and wrapped his rough hand around the doorknob, mouthing a countdown from three to his companion. When he reached one, Jim yanked the door open. When he charged in, he stumbled over his own feet and landed on the shredded mattress. “There ain’t nobody in here, Jim!” the shorter man held his pants up as he walked up the steps, surveying the room. “No shit” Jim huffed. Just like a ghost, Genji was gone.

    After the initial healing only a professional such as the good doc could perform, she left Genji to care for Jesse on his own as promised. “His body will be rejecting the medicine I give him, it’s to wash out all of the nasty toxins he put in himself. As for the bullet wound, I have him prescribed pain medication for when he is no longer vomiting. Do not let him weasel more than than the dosage I have written here” Angela handed him a piece of paper with the dates and times Jesse would be taking his medication. “Thank you so much Angela” Genji moved in and and gave her a quick, tight hug. The flustered doctor only nodded and left, the room becoming silent aside from the beeping of the technology used to monitor Jesse’s vitals. Genji pulled up a chair next to Jesse, pulling his visor off to better watch over him. Jesse was twitching and mumbling in his sleep, his face scrunched up in pain.  _ What are you dreaming about, cowboy?  _ Genji put a hand on his friend’s chest to hopefully put him at ease. He pulled his hand away as Jesse rolled over suddenly to vomit loudly into the trashcan on the other side of him. It sounded as though someone were drowning a bear. Genji pat Jesse’s back casually and went over the list Angela gave him.  _ This will all be over soon enough.. Then we gotta get you back in training  _ Genji beamed at the thought of being able to spar like they used to. After Jesse was finished, he flopped back into his former position, looking at Genji with bleary eyes. “Pa.. I’m so sorry” he croaked. Genji blinked at him and tilted his head out of habit, setting the paper down on his lap. “I am not your father, Jesse” the bedridden man reached out to Genji as he spoke. “Go back to sleep, you need rest” he took Jesse’s hand and gently placed it back by his side, giving it a small squeeze before he stood. There was a nagging feeling that told Genji the healing process would take a lot longer than he anticipated.  


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ready for some angst?

_Heat washed over Jesse’s small frame, a familiar and comfortable Santa Fe heat. For miles ahead of him, there was nothing but sparse grass and beautiful weather carved buttes. Jesse was sitting on the ground, poking around in the dirt next to a pair of worn leather boots, filled by his one and only father; Wallace B. McCree. He could only see large hands expertly loading bullets into a revolver through the mixture of sand and dirt stinging his eyes like a thousand bees. “What are ya diggin’ in the dirt for? I thought ya wanted t’ learn how to shoot” his father's voice was rough and smooth like a shot of the finest whiskey. Jesse looked up from his hands only to squint at the sun blotting out his father's face. “I don't want ta hurt nobody” Jesse peeped, standing and dusting off his jeans. “Guns aren't for hurtin’ people, boy. They're fer protectin’ the people you love” his hard hand shook Jesse’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I was about yer age when I learned t’ shoot. If somethin’ were to happen to me you’d wanna protect your momma, right?” Instead of responding, Jesse cast his eyes to the ground. “Here” the gun was shoved into his hands. “If you can hit that bottle, you can hit anythin’” Jesse leaned into his father's hand when he rubbed his back reassuringly. Jesse held the gun shakily, running his fingers over the scarred hilt in awe. “Take a deep breath, and hold it” his father's voice sounded over his shoulder. Jesse held his breath as instructed and steadied his hand. “Good, good. Now take aim an’ shoot” his father took a step back. Jesse steadied himself and aimed for the glass bottle that had been placed on a wooden post for him. He squeezed the trigger with little thought and immediately regretted doing so. The recoil nearly knocked him off of his feet and his ears rang like heaven's bells. Jesse could just barely hear the praise his father was giving him as his big hands gripped his shoulders to secure Jesse. The bottle was no longer on the post, but on the ground in several pieces. “Knew you had it in ya, keep shootin’ like that and you may even be as good as me one day” Jesse beamed up at his father, the thrill of the shot making him want to hoot and holler. Before he could raise a fist, the gun began to feel uncomfortably wet in his hand. Sweat maybe? Jesse looked down at his hands that were now covered in blood, the gun in his hand was seeping the red liquid from every crevice. Jesse dropped the gun in horror, the initials W.M neatly carved in the gun leering at him. Just as he dropped the gun he heard a loud thud as though someone dropped a sack of potatoes. Jesse whipped around to see his father crumpled in the dirt, blood was pooling rather quickly around his head. No, no, no, no! God no! Not like this, please not like this! Jesse dropped to his knees, his hands shaking hard as he reached for the limp figure. Tears flooded his sight and the sand filled air began to choke him. Nausea  pressed on his brain like an unwelcome headache, he turned and wretched into a bucket._

     He blinked with heavy lids into the now vomit filled plastic bucket. His homeland nightmare melted away with his consciousness.  “Nngh.. Where am I?” Jesse’s voice was alien to himself as he struggled to sit up. The room was incredibly cold, the kind of cold that gave your nipples the ability to cut diamonds. Goosebumps crawled up Jesse’s arms as he scanned the room. The infirmary was dark; the only light came from the setting sun that lingered, illuminating pieces of medical equipment, a desk with stacks of paper that could scrape the roof, and an empty cot next to his own. Two monitors glowed ominously with foreign characters, beeping rapidly in sync with his pounding heart. He felt a sharp pain in his arm almost instantaneously. He looked down at his arm to see an IV carelessly shoved into it, other wires and tubes hanging from his chest connecting to the machines. He was naked, mind the plain blue hospital pants, and a nasty scar just above where his kidney would be; sending cold dread down his spine. _What did they do to me?_ Jesse pulled the IV out with a grunt and ripped the wires off in one swift sweep, throwing his heavy legs over the edge of the cot. Throbbing pain in every inch of his body made him wonder exactly who _they_ were. He began to think that Hanzo finally got fed up and harvested his organ. _Don’t panic, you know exactly how to get outta government facilities._ Jesse began thinking of an alibi until he vaguely remembered being chased. _And Genji.. He was there_ Jesse reminded himself. _Fuck._ He knew just where he was. Panic, fear, and anger made his head spin as he stood a little too quickly. Making three hasty steps towards the door, he landed heavily onto one knee, his hands on the floor to keep himself upright. “How long have I been out?” he cursed aloud and took a moment to collect himself. The door threw him off; it wasn’t the typical programmed pattern lock that military bases used on private rooms, it was an old fashioned door with a knob and small window. More than likely the saps built an infirmary from a storage room. He eyed the door with a smirk. _This is good, I can disable a pattern lock, but this will be a whole lot easier. They probably didn’t even lock the damn thing._ In his revelation he spotted a medicine cabinet and a decently large box that fit snuggly on a metal chair with the words “J. Belongings” scribbled on it. _Bingo._ Cautious of standing up too fast, Jesse scooted to the box, praying his clothes would be in there. Whoever he prayed to was feeling mighty generous. As soon as Jesse ripped the tape off and opened the box, he found his serape neatly folded on top of his favorite Johnny Cash t-shirt and a pair of jeans that only had a few holes. His gun holster was present and tucked in next to his boots, but missing his beloved revolver. _Jokes on them, anything’s a weapon if you use it right._ Several midnight invasions will teach you that much.

 

     Hurriedly Jesse pulled the shirt on and swapped the hospital pants for his own, having to sit back to put his boots on. He adjusted his holster on his hip and balled up his serape, tucking it under his arm as he stood slowly. Two more things stopped him before he had his hand on the doorknob; the newly wrinkled photograph and the medicine cabinet. If Jesse wasn’t already furious with Genji, he would have been grateful. Eyeing the lock on the cabinet, Jesse decided it could be opened with a bobby pin. _I reckon they wouldn’t keep bobby pins in their office knowin’ i’m in here, but maybe they’d be dumb ‘nough to leave a paperclip_ he thought to himself, shoving the photo into his back pocket. He limped to the desk, stacks of folders and papers littered the surface almost threatening to topple over. Carelessly he tossed loose papers around and rummaged through the few drawers. After a few minutes of searching, he located a small container full of paperclips next to a rather rusty stapler. _Well i’ll be damned_ Jesse danced a little as he yanked a paperclip out of the container and hobbled back the the medicine cabinet. It only took a bit of finagling before the lock popped off with a satisfying click. “Finally” Jesse huffed as he threw the small door open and commenced stocking up on every bottle that sparked his interest. There was one bottle of oxycodone that had his name on it, underneath his name were hand written instructions. “Do not give more than prescribed” he chuckled “Sorry doc, yo no hablo doctor lingo”. Jesse popped the top off with little effort and shook a handful of the pills into his palm, tossing them back like candies. “That’ll do it” he grunted and tossed the pill bottle over his shoulder, limping to the door. He twisted and yanked the knob, however It wouldn’t budge. _Shoulda known they would lock me in. S’pose they were right to do so, I’m not leavin’ here without crackin’ a few skulls._ A grimace spread on Jesse’s face as he wrapped his serape around his fist and gave the small window on the door a hard elbow. The window cracked enough for him to punch out the glass, even with his arm feeling quite weak from his hiatus in criminal behavior. He reached through the window carefully and felt for the lock. Thankfully it was just a smaller knob rather than a keyhole. Jesse was in no way religious, but he swore to himself if he had made it out alive he would go to church every sunday until the day he died.  

 

     With the door open, Jesse hurried along the metal panel corridor, throwing his serape around him. Jesse cursed at himself silently, his spurs couldn’t hold a candle to the pill bottles in his pockets making him sound like a fucking maraca. _Gotta get me some sneak boots_ he smiled foolishly at his joke.  Minutes passed as Jesse ran as quietly as he could down the halls, making turns and stopping whenever he thought he heard someone coming. He was beginning to feel lost when a sudden pair of footsteps behind him stabbed his senses. Jesse took cover in the nearest hall and waited, preparing himself to attack. His heart pounded in his ears as the footsteps got louder, a woman’s voice puncturing the silence. “Ahh yes, I would love to join you for tea! I will be there in a f-” Jesse shot forward like a rattlesnake, drilling his fist right into the woman’s face. Instantly she dropped like a stone, the concerned voice calling to her from the watch was cut short when he yanked it off of the unconscious woman and stomped on it. “Sorry pumpkin” Jesse drawled, dragging the heavily dressed Chinese woman into the shadowy hall. With the way she was dressed, Jesse began to fear he was in Antarctica. He wouldn’t worry for long, only seconds after he set the lady down, a high pitched alarm sounded. Fear drove him into dashing down the halls, his caution lost as he desperately searched for an exit. A rather large door caught his eye, giving him hope. _This is it, time to get the fuck outta here!_ The door opened just as Jesse drew near, he couldn’t stop himself in time as he smashed into what felt like a brick wall. He bounced off and skidded across the floor, pill bottles flying out of his pockets. Jesse swore he saw multiple armored gorillas. _What the..?_ Jesse blinked roughly and shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Instead of disappearing, the gorilla came into focus, looking rather confused. “Uhh.. Hello” it’s voice was as deep as the ocean. Realization blossomed in Jesse’s mind and he started yelling, scrambling to get up and start running in the opposite direction. _Holyfuckingshit how did he talk?! Why is there a gorilla in here?!?!_ He couldn’t ponder for long as he threw himself around the corner and into a giant room decorated with bright furniture and a kitchenette stuffed behind a pool table. _A rec room?_ He came to a sudden stop, the room was full of people on their feet, some in the middle of putting on armor. Jesse recognized all but two of the faces that were now trained on him. _Doctor Zeigler.. Cadette Oxton.. Reinhardt.. Torbjorn.._

 

     The room began to spin, astonished faces and friendly decor faded into harsh cement walls glowing orange by flame. He was crouched behind the remnants of a large barrier, frantically trying to see past the flames. “This isn’t real” Jesse choked, feeling the heavy weight of a pulse rifle in his hands. “It’s real, Jesse” a gruff voice boomed over the screams and gunshots echoing in the confined space. With wide eyes Jesse turned to face his commander. “Reyes..?!” Gabriel handed him a clip for his rifle, his own shotguns in hand. “I’m gonna need you to stay strong for me, kid” he barked, turning back to look around the corner. Jesse felt as though he would pass out, taking sharp breaths. “Breathe. Don’t crap out on me now” the commander shook him roughly and then paused. One of their teammates began yelling to him, their words getting louder as they moved closer. “Sir! We’re overrun, we can’t hold them any longer! We need to-” the soldier’s cry was cut off abruptly, a sickening crack followed. Before Jesse could look over the barrier, a figure wearing a Blackwatch uniform flew over their cover and landed ungracefully. The boy didn’t look much older than Jesse; a clean bullet hole still sizzled in his skull as his jaw continued to work, desperate to relay his message. Smoke spilled from his nose and mouth like a man possessed. Blood that had sprayed them landed in Jesse’s open mouth, but before he could spit and scream, Reyes had his hand roughly over his face. “Be quiet” he hissed, as heavy boot-clad footsteps drew closer. “Now!” the hand over Jesse’s mouth was removed and he immediately spit, the commander shoving Jesse to his feet. Before he could make sense of the war zone ahead of them, a rough shove to his back sent him flying forward. Jesse could have sworn he tasted the metal floor.

  
_No.. That’s not right_ Jesse lifted his face to a new scene entirely, a firm weight on his back. His ears were ringing and the gunfire panned into dead silence mind his rattled breaths, he could still taste blood, but now Jesse was certain it was his own. Wherever he had landed was no longer on fire, but just as cold as the infirmary. The walls were grey and bare, to his left was a standard looking bed with a nightstand. Directly in front of him was a bathroom. The room was exactly like his own in Blackwatch, only it was missing bullet holes. _That’s about to change_ Jesse thought bitterly as his attempt to get up was squashed. “Lemme up” he rasped. He had to bite back a cry as whoever held him down dug their heel into his tender lower back. “If you hurt anyone in this facility ever again, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your sick skull” a woman with a thick German accent spit venom. _Angela, of course. So I wasn’t dreaming.. Which means the giant ape is real too._ Jesse groaned as she continued, her heel digging deeper. “And now that you’re well, you do not need to be in my work space” the heel was lifted from his back, but Jesse couldn’t bring himself to move. He heard the clack of her shoes down the hall as she left him, the door clicking behind her. _Locked in again. Way to go, dumb ass_ his chiding was short lived as he felt very heavy and tired. Unable to pull himself onto the bed, Jesse curled up on the floor and shut his eyes, willing that when he wakes he is no longer there.


End file.
